by Desiree Holt
God, I'm not sure I understand.
"Yeah?” Kit raised an eyebrow. “Then how come you haven't told him about the money?” When Jamie didn't answer, she said, “Uh huh. So we're only being partially open and honest here, right?"
The knot in her stomach tightened.
"What exactly am I supposed to tell him? I don't know where the money even came from. What if he doesn't believe me when I tell him I just found it? It's obvious my father was involved in something damned illegal. That's the only way he could ever get this kind of cash."
"The longer you wait to tell Zane, the less likely he is to believe you didn't know anything about it.” Kit shook her head. “Then you and he will be right back where you were when you crawled home to Amen."
"Damn it, anyway.” Jamie kicked at a chair. “Damn that rotten old man."
"You want to call Zane? Go ahead and do it. But ask him to come over here. Let him look you in the eye. He'll know you're telling the truth. And he'll have a better chance to help you if you aren't keeping anything from him."
But the dispatcher told her the sheriff was out of the area. She'd give him the message when he called in.
"Well, that's all I can do for now,” she told Kit. “Let's put the rest of the groceries away."
* * * *
Zane was a half hour from Amen when he called his office and got Jamie's message. Twenty minutes later he was knocking on her front door. When she opened it, he could see Kit doing something in the kitchen, doing a poor job of ignoring him. He reminded himself he was technically on duty. But Jamie looked somehow so fragile. What the hell. Telling himself—lying to himself—he was just comforting another human being, he hauled her into his arms and pulled her tightly against his chest.
She wound her arms around his neck, pressing her soft body against his. His hormones smacked his brain with a baseball bat, and he kissed her with all the desire that had been building since his visit to Annabelle's. Her taste exploded through him like a heady flavor, her lips soft as velvet, her tongue a wet bolt of lightning.
Only the sound of Kit clearing her throat brought him back to reality. He sucked in a deep breath and looked down at the woman in his arms, wishing he could strip off every stitch of her clothing right now and try out the new toys. “You call for the sheriff?"
She stood on tiptoe and placed another quick kiss on his lips. He felt the anxiety humming through her body as she took his hand. “Yes. Come into the bedroom with me."
"Uh, Jamie? Not that I'm not up for it, if you'll pardon the pun, but don't you want to give Kit a dollar and send her to the movies or something?” He gave a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the situation. “I didn't realize this was your urgent message."
But he couldn't coax a smile from her. “Maybe later. This is serious business. Come on."
He followed her up the stairs, her small hand clasping his tightly. Almost nervously. Nervously? What was happening here? When she tugged him into her bedroom and pushed him down to the bed, he raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is going on?"
She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, a movement that made his cock stand at attention again. “Zane."
"Jamie?"
"I know years ago when I left here, we were on bad terms, and when I came back, we didn't start off too well."
He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. “Is this some kind of kiss-off?” he demanded. “Because it could have waited, don't you think? Or are we replaying that old scene all over again."
She shook her head, jamming her hands into her pockets. “Nothing like that. The opposite, as a matter of fact.” She blew out a long breath. “At first I wasn't sure I could trust you. Even when we had sex, you seemed so ... so ... angry. Still. But now..."
"But now?” he prompted.
"But now things have changed. I know we have ... feelings for each other.” She looked at him anxiously. “Right?"
"Yes. Right.” He flipped a hand impatiently. “Can we get to the point, please?"
"And I don't want to hide anything from you."
"Jamie."
"Okay, okay. Just promise you won't be made at me."
She was so edgy he held out a hand to her and reluctantly she took it. The connection between them sizzled at the contact. No, he wouldn't be angry with her. Whatever it was, he'd help her. No matter what it was. “I won't be mad. I promise. Now can we get to it?"
"Okay.” She dropped his hand and opened her closet door. Picking up a hammer lying on the floor, she poked at a board that, at first glance, didn't even look loose. It came away with a slight groaning sound, and she dropped the hammer and pulled out a grungy-looking gym bag. Dropping it on the bed next to him, she unzipped it and opened it wide.
Shock and anger battled inside Zane. He'd promised Jamie he wouldn't be mad, but Jesus! He clenched his jaw as he fought to keep himself under control. The bag was stuffed with bundles of money, fifties and hundreds. Mentally tabulating from practice, he'd say there was close to a hundred thousand there. His mind was whirling with possibilities, but one thing he was sure of. Jamie had been as shocked at finding the money as he was to see it now.
"Let's check the issue dates on the bills,” he told her. “Maybe this cash has been here forever."
"Maybe.” She bit her bottom lip. “But maybe not. This could just be the latest payoff he got.” She snorted. “We certainly didn't have any relatives to leave us any money. Unless they're in jail, I don't even know where any of them are."
"I agree. I don't think this came to him through legal activities."
"My father kept a roof over our heads and food on the table after my mother died. And he never had what you could call a steady job. Do you think whatever this is, he was mixed up in it way back then?"
"I hate to say you're right, but it's possible, darlin'. Frank Randall wasn't a candidate for citizen of the year. After all, he supported the two of you somehow all those years. I'm guessing anything he had before he already spent."
Zane was already thumbing through the stacks, spot checking the information. He tossed one pack on the bed. “You're right. These dates are all from the last two years."
"Maybe my house wasn't torn up just to run me out of town,” she suggested, her voice shaky. “Maybe they were looking for the money. And need to get me out of here to do it."
"If—and I only say if—your father was murdered, whoever did it wants the money back before anyone finds it."
"In case it can be traced back to them?"
Zane shook his head. “Traceable or not, it would start us asking a lot more questions and digging into a lot more places."
His heart was galloping as he realized exactly how much danger she was in. People killed for a lot less than this, and if it was dirty money, which was more than likely, whoever it belonged to would want it back. Badly. No way was he letting her stay in this house without him now.
"When did you find this?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice even.
"A-a couple of days ago.” She twisted her hands nervously.
Zane blew out his breath. “Have you counted it?"
She nodded. “Almost a hundred grand."
"That's what I figured, too."
"Zane, I swear I wasn't keeping anything from you.” Her body was a study in anxiety. “I found the money, and at first, I was afraid to tell you and then—"
He held up a hand. He had a choice to make here, and he knew it better be the right one or it was all over between them. “Come here."
"Zane..."
"Come on, darlin'. Come over here."
The last thing he needed right now was intimate contact with her, but again, his brain took a vacation. She moved closer, and he pulled her against his body, her legs between his thighs, his arms banded around her.
She looked down at him, anxiety flashing in her eyes. “What?"
"Now. Listen to me. I'm not mad. Not even pissed off, okay? Just ... maybe a little irritated. But it's my own fault you didn't th
ink you could tell me about this. So why don't you tell me everything from the beginning."
She perched on one thigh and told him the whole story, from the moment she'd made the discovery right through everything that had happened since then.
"I would have told you before, but—"
"Shh. It's okay. You're telling me now. But this puts a whole different face on what's happening."
"You mean the break-in and everything?"
He nodded. “I'll bet my ass this is what they were looking for."
"I have something else to tell you, too.” She picked at a fingernail. “I went ahead and sent the photos of the accident scene to a friend of Kit's who investigates these things for a living."
Zane tensed. “What did he find out?"
"That it definitely was no accident.” She told him what was in the email, watching his face for his reaction.
"Then the money definitely has to come into it."
"But we don't have any idea where my father got it. And it still doesn't tell us why Grayson Ballou wants this scrub land so badly."
"No, it doesn't."
Zane pulled out his handkerchief and used it to lift the bag by the frayed handles. “Can you get me a large garbage bag? Your fingerprints and Frank's are all over this, but we can check the money to see what else we come up with. You'll have to be printed for comparison."
"Okay. When do you want to do it?"
"Let me get to the office, and I'll call you. Did you take any money out of here?” he asked.
They walked out of the room, Jamie about three steps ahead of him. “Ten thousand,” she answered in a small voice, her eyes focused on where she was walking.
Christ. Well, nothing I can do about it now. And getting mad at her won't help, although I'd like to wring her sexy little neck.
"All right. We'll just ignore that for the moment. Where have you got it?"
"In my purse.” She turned to look at him, desperation and humiliation in her eyes. “Zane, I'm about broke. I had to sell everything I owned and use most of the cash I'd saved up to settle the law suit. I only took enough to give myself some breathing room."
"And the big furniture spree?"
"Kit's credit card. I owe her. I figured—"
"To pay her back when you discovered where the money came from?"
She nodded.
"We'll work it out. Meanwhile, I need to get back to work and take this with me."
Jamie pulled a garbage sack out of the cupboard and opened it so he could drop the gym bag in.
"Let's hope that doesn't occur to whoever these idiots are.” He tied the sack and pulled a little notebook out of his pants pocket. After writing on a blank page, he tore it out and handed it to Jamie. “Here's a receipt. Lock it away somewhere. When this all gets cleared up, I'll try to get it back to you."
Kit came in from the living room. “Thank god. I'll be damned glad to get that out of here.” She handed Jamie a sheet of paper. “Here. I printed this out so you could show it to Zane.” She looked up at the man. “This is an analysis of the photos from the accident."
Zane studied it carefully, his gut twisting. He'd definitely misread this whole thing, but then he hadn't been looking for anything out of the ordinary. He'd have to get Duke to tow it to the impound yard and have the tech go to work on it. “Shit. I guess my stupidity is showing. I owe you a huge apology. If I hadn't been so pompous and pig-headed..."
"Don't beat yourself up. Please.” Jamie was looking up at him. “I'm not sure anyone would have handled it differently. If I wasn't so pissed off when I came back here, I might not have forced the issue, either. But I looked at that truck and just ... just ... Maybe there was no love lost between us, but I wasn't about to let someone get away with his murder, either."
He pulled her into his arms again, hugging her tightly, an action he was allowing himself all too frequently. He was just afraid to show her just how scared for her he was. Something really bad was going on. He hoped Gray Ballou wasn't involved because that meant another clash with his mother. It also meant whatever this was, someone with brains was behind it and that upped the danger factor.
"All right.” He had to get out of here and get to work. Thank god he had urgent things to take care of, or he might have carried her into the bedroom and lost what was left of his mind. He needed to put some emotional distance between them.
"Here's the deal,” he told her. “I'm having Frank's truck brought in so we can go over it in detail, and I'll get the money fingerprinted.” He thought for a minute. “I may call the state lab for that. I'm not sure I trust my own office not to leak. In fact, I think I'll bring the portable kit tonight and take your prints myself. We don't need to stir up gossip. Meanwhile, you don't go anywhere without checking in with me on a regular basis. Got it?"
"Zane,” she began.
"No room for argument, so don't even try. And tonight when I come back, I'm bringing a suitcase with me. I'll be here for the duration."
And maybe longer. Just as long as I make sure we both know the ground rules.
She looked for a moment as if she was getting ready to argue with him, her face reflecting the battle she was fighting with desire, the need for independence, and the remnants of hoarded anger.
He was glad when Kit spoke up to break the impasse.
"For once, Jamie, use your head,” she said in her ‘you'd better listen to me’ voice. “I have no desire to die in my bed, and I don't think you do, either."
"Okay, okay.” She threw up her hands. “Whatever."
Zane took the garbage sack in one hand and Jamie's hand in the other, tugging her out to the driveway with him. He should have just said good-bye and walked out the door, but instead, after tossing the sack in the SUV, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
"I will not let anything happen to you,” he promised. “No matter what happens between us—and I don't think either of us has a handle on that yet—I will find out what the hell is going on in my county and put a stop to it."
"You be careful, too,” she told him.
He put his mouth next to her ear. “I have some presents for tonight, too, darlin'. Something to spice things up a little. If you're willing, that is."
The look she gave him was so heated he wasn't sure he'd last until evening. He hoped that look would still be there when he opened the shopping bag.
"You just bring it on.” She rose on her toes to give him a kiss that had every hormone in his body on full alert.
He broke the kiss with great reluctance. “Later. And you be damn careful, okay?"
"I will."
She stood watching him as he backed out of the driveway. When he pulled out onto the road, he forcibly tucked her in a corner of his mind to concentrate on business. As he headed toward his office, he wondered if his two mutilated bodies could possibly be part of this, too.
The shit just kept piling higher and deeper.
* * * *
Jamie popped the cap on one of the bottles of Lone Star she'd bought at the market and dropped into a kitchen chair. “This calls for more than coffee or soda,” she told Kit.
"No kidding. I'll take one of those, too."
They sat at the table staring at each other. Finally Kit said, “Things are getting heavy with the sheriff."
Jamie took a long swallow of her beer before she answered. “Yeah. And I'll be damned if I can figure out just when it all took such a big turn."
Kit laughed. “Jamie, admit it. You've been in love with him all your life, and I'd say the same goes for him. But you both had a lot of growing up to do. Coming back to Amen may have been a last resort for you, but it looks as if this is what you were meant to do."
Jamie rolled the cold bottle against her forehead. “I just don't know if he sees this as long term. Or if I could spend the rest of my life here in this chicken shit place."
Kit shrugged. “Maybe Zane wants to spread his wings a little. Try someplace else."
"There's still a lot of prejudi
ce in the Southwest. It wouldn't be so bad if he was full-blooded Comanche, believe it or not. But mixed race can put you right behind the eight ball. People aren't quite so ... forward-thinking."
"Then it's something you and he will have to work out. If you want to. Meanwhile, figuring out what your dear old pappy was doing to bring in that kind of money should be high on your list."
"I know Grayson Ballou has something to do with it. It's the reason he wants to buy this land. But damned if I can get a handle on it.” Jamie stood up and tossed her empty bottle in the trash. “Meanwhile, I'm too edgy to sit around here. Let's go for a ride. I'll show you the rest of Diablo County."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Fourteen
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Jamie licked her lips nervously as Kit stuffed a few items in an overnight bag.
"Absolutely. I sure don't want to hang around and listen to you and the hunk have sweaty sex.” She zipped the bag closed and straightened. “Think what a fortunate coincidence it is that I tried to call Carol Andrews only to find out she's in San Antonio for a conference."
"But won't she be busy?” Jamie asked. “What will you do with yourself?"
Kit laughed. “Honey, she'll be through for the day by the time I get there. We're going to have dinner at a fabulously expensive restaurant, then hang out in the hotel bar.” She winked. “Who knows? I might get lucky myself."
"You watch yourself,” Jamie warned. “You and I know what kind of men you'll be running into."
Kit kissed her on the cheek. “Not to worry. Old Kit can take good care of herself. And Carol's a dragon with the barflies. We're just going to have some fun."
"I don't like the idea of you driving all that way by yourself, either.” Jamie rubbed her arms as if chasing away the cold, even though it was hot as a furnace. “What if—"
"What if nothing. I'm leaving in daylight, and I'll be fine.” She patted her purse and grinned. “Besides, I've got your pappy's six shooter just in case."
Jamie had insisted Kit take the gun she'd found, cleaned, and loaded. God knew who could be waiting out there on the highway, and she refused to let Kit drive away without it.
